Her Uprising, Their Downfall
by JessieBearxo
Summary: She preferred standing rather than sitting on a throne. Exploring rather than being confined behind castle walls. Living a life with no responsibilities rather than one of duty. She had been granted each of her preferences for sixteen years, until the day she was called home through her Father's fear. If anyone could call a foreign court home, that is.


Chapter One.

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Her waist length mane of dark loose curls bounced against her back, freshly released from the suffocating fastening pile atop her head. The rolling green hills flew past her vision, morphing into a blur of trees and rose bushes as the horse underneath her sped down the familiar and well-worn path. The early morning air heaved a heavy sigh of cold temperatures into her face, though she smiled through the shiver that rippled down her spine.

Summer was her favorite season of them all, and she regretted the way it so quickly melted into the next. The way the wind would batter olive green leaves as it whipped through forests, the way the colors and animals and bees scattered throughout the thick brush, and the way her horse so willingly crunched the mint grass calmed her – freeing her from the grasp of responsibility, politics, and unwanted duty.

How his face lit up into a blissful smile, exposing gleaming white teeth and pure joy, also made summers worth waiting for. Hubert quickly halted when he heard what Eleanor could not: the slowing of their companion's steed's hooves on the dirt ground. Nicholas and his horse sat a short distance from them, with Nicholas studying a tree on his right with furrowed dark eyebrows. She sighed as they slowly trotted towards him, knowing what question he was about to speak.

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" he asked when they finally reached him, with only a small trace of doubt in his voice. Eleanor had lived in around this convent since she was a month old, and had grown up climbing trees and exploring paths. She knew them better than a servant would know their master's chambers, even though it expanded for hundreds of acres. Of course, her tendency to get lost indoors had convinced him over the years that her sense of direction was not always something that could be counted on. "Because I swear, Eleanor, we have passed this tree a thousand times already. We're going in circles."

"A thousand times? My goodness, Nicholas, we've been riding an hour and we've passed one tree a _thousand _times? That is a great feat accomplished," Eleanor replied mockingly, placing one hand over her heart as she addressed him. He narrowed his dark brown eyes at her, and she raised her green ones to the heavens. "Do not get impatient with me, I was only joking. And besides, what does it matter if we're going in circles? That only means that if we get lost then you get to spend more time riding with me as we make our way back. Or is my company beginning to irritate you?"

"Many things about you irritate me, Eleanor, though your company is not one of them," he grinned, a mix of fondness and humor lacing through his red lips and tugging at the corners of his stubble. She smiled at him, and rubbed Hubert's neck comfortingly as the black beast released a threatening huff. Nicholas scowled and muttered something quietly enough that Eleanor could not hear, though she could understand what his lips had spoken through the movements they made. She sharply leaned over and flicked him, and he yelped in surprise. "_That _is something that irritates me. Now would you care to tell me what was that for?"

"Hubert is not a 'disgusting creature' – do not look at me like that, Nicholas, I saw your lips moving," Eleanor informed him, turning to place a kiss on her horses head after she spoke her words. Nicholas's nostrils flared at the action, though remained silent. He could never understand why she chose to form such strong bonds with animals – though in all honesty, he could never understand why a bastard daughter of the King of Scotland had chosen to form such a strong bond with him, a lowly blade smith with no lands or titles. "You are beautiful, Hubert, I assure you. Now, when we reach the river down that path that we are _not _lost on, shall we push Nicholas in for saying such mean words?"

Hubert made an excited noise in agreement.

"You wouldn't _dare_ down me, Eleanor – you are too fond of me. The beast may choose to push me off my horse and into icy water, but you would rescue me in an instant. Even the horse knows that," Nicholas replied, squinting into the rising sun and waiting for her to strike once more. She only shook her head and instructed Hubert to turn around, a smile on her face as she grasped onto Nicholas's horse's reigns and pulled them along with them. "See? You can't even deny the fact that you would save me, Eleanor, can you?"

She remained silent as they continued their journey, though released a happy sigh as a gush of early morning air blew softly into her face, causing her to close her eyes with a grin. Moments like these she felt as free as the birds that glided through the cloudless sky. Moments like these filled her with happiness. Moments like these made her feel at peace with the world around her.

He watched her with his own grin, guessing her thoughts with each sigh she released. He could not imagine her trapped on a throne, in a marriage, and behind castle walls. And while Eleanor cared for Mary, she would not argue with him when he said she had a dreadful, joyless life. He could never imagine Eleanor at a royal court because he fondly thought that she would be exiled within days of her presence – as Kings and Queens were not permitted to escape the castle to explore the countryside at their please. It was not that she wouldn't be a good ruler, because deep in his heart he knew that she would be the strongest, kindest, and most merciful ruler Scotland had ever seen. It was that her heart was too wild and untamable, her mind too free, and her opinions too bold to participate in politics.

She was also far too independent to wed someone as smothering as Francis was rumored to be.

He remembered the day they had met, almost ten years ago. Sister Adelaide had informed Eleanor as punishment for setting one of the girls' skirts alight that she would have to scrub each dish, cook each meal, and clean each room for the rest of the month. Eleanor had escaped the convent on Hubert and had travelled a mile down the pathway, and had slipped into a nearing stable when she heard hooves by the dozen chasing her. She had hid in the stables all night, covering herself up with hay as winter began to take its toll.

In the early hours of the next morning Nicholas had ran to the stables after his Father had drunkenly beaten him, and had tripped over a crying five year old girl's legs. From the moment he had locked his brown eyes on her green ones they had known they needed to stick together, and had been the closest of friends ever since. Neither had an issue when they embraced for warmth on that evening, and neither had an issue when they were forced to embrace each other on numerous occasions for warmth. And while she knew he was far more handsome than any man she had ever seen, no romantic feelings had ever festered.

"Tell me the story," she instructed softly, her thoughts in the same place as his. He was riding beside her now, though she was still holding his reigns. He grinned in amusement at the ground, releasing a breathy chuckle as he looked up to her dazed face. She had wanted him to tell her the story more and more recently, and while he did as requested each time she asked for it, it was slowly beginning to bitter him. These games were for children, though he wanted it more than anything.

"Well first off you would go back to the convent, and I would go back to my home. I would wait until night had fallen, and the ale had consumed my Father and Mother, and then I would stuff a rucksack full to the brim with a coat for us each, every coin I could find, and every jewel in my Mother's bedroom. You would wait until Sister Adelaide had retired to her chambers for the evening, and then you would convince Jane to help you into your most peasant like dress. Then you would go out to the stables, feed Hubert and another horse until their stomachs could hold no more, and then you would ride a mile down the pathway to retrieve me. From there we would ride for two days straight, through three towns, and then we would rest. I would sell the treasures to well paying merchants, and you would find food for us to eat. We would travel once more, paying off people to say they had not seen us, until we arrived at the sea," he spoke gently, his tone slowly becoming a whisper. "From there we would board a ship and sail across the ocean until we found distant land. You would then become Eleanor Blackshaw, an exclusive seamstress, who refused to make clothes for those who had servants. Many would love you, and people would line the streets for your dresses. Wedding dresses, party dresses, everyday gowns. You would be adored. I would become Nicholas Appleby, just a secretly wealthy blade smith, who would spend his days making swords to fight of any people that follow us."

"You would be much more than a secretly wealthy blade smith, Nicholas," Eleanor replied, resting a hand on his arm. He smiled weakly, though looked down at the ground and averted her eyes. He so badly wanted for this tale to become a reality. He so badly wanted to escape his Father, and for Eleanor to escape the suffocating clutches of the convent. He cleared his throat, and Eleanor grasped onto his arm tighter. "Nicholas, you–"

"It doesn't matter, Eleanor. It's not going to happen, so I suggest we both stop wishing for it to be true. You're a King's daughter whether you act as one or not, and you will be taken away from here as soon as they find you a suitor. It is best if we stop imagining what will never happen now," Nicholas interrupted sharply, and pried Eleanor's fingers from his horse's reigns. He knew that she knew that he was upset. He also knew that she was insulted by the comment about her Father. He sighed. "Please forgive me, Eleanor. I did not mean what I said about the King."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Nicholas," she replied, though he could hear the sadness in her voice. He was about to attempt to convince her of his regret once more when a piercing scream entered the air, followed minutes later by frantic words and a nervous familiar voice, and they both froze. It was not just _any_ voice – it was the voice that tormented Eleanor's nightmares. Eleanor's eyes widened, and she looked towards the noise.

"Eleanor? Eleanor where have you gotten to?" Sister Adelaide called, cupping her hands to her wrinkled mouth as to make her voice travel farther. The fear in her tone halted any rebellious actions the duo were internally debating, and Eleanor looked to Nicholas in fear. Sister Adelaide was never concerned for Eleanor, though she was at this point in time. _What has happened?_ she asked herself, kicking Hubert's inner thigh gently in an attempt to quicken his trot. "Eleanor – if you are there you must come back now. There will be no trouble, you have my word. And bring that blade smith with you."

Nicholas gasped at the reference to him, having thought that no one at the convent other than the girls Eleanor spoke to knew of his existence. Eleanor spared him a nervous glance as they burst through the entry she had slowly carved in the bush over the years, Nicholas trailing behind her as she brushed leaves from her shoulders. He did not comment on the fact that they had indeed been lost, if they were this close to the convent. He didn't say a word at all.

"I am fine, Sister Adelaide. I assure you, I have not gotten into any trouble during my absence," Eleanor replied, dismissing the break she heard in her own voice. She was not as scared as Sister Adelaide punishing her, as she was scared of the small huddle of people that had gathered across the field she frequently played soccer on. "What has happened? I detected terror in your tone, and I heard a scream. Is everything alright?"

"Where have you been, Eleanor?" the woman asked, her fingers trembling as she plucked Hubert's leash from the young girl's hand. Eleanor detected no annoyance in her voice, only fear. _What on earth would make Sister Adelaide so afraid?_ she questioned, remembering all of the large spiders that had dutifully been murdered in the dining hall by Sister Adelaide. Eleanor had never thought that there was a part of her plump body that could hold fear.

"I was just out riding. I needed to clear my thoughts, and a moment's peace was the only idea that popped into my mind. I must have lost track of time," Eleanor replied almost apologetically, swinging one leg over to the other side of Hubert with a reassuring smile. Sister Adelaide glanced at a disembarking Nicholas uncertainly, though dismissed the words that came to mind. When the Sister's eyes returned to Eleanor's face and did not dim into rage that Eleanor was so familiar with, however, she herself grew a little way. "What has happened? Why is there a crowd over there? My ride must not have caused this much commotion. Please tell me, what has brought on this reaction?"

"It is Belinda, she has been poisoned," Sister Adelaide said, stifling a wail. Eleanor's breath caught, and she squeezed the positively frightening woman's arm. Nicholas inspected the crowd suspiciously. Eleanor had known Jane. The redheaded girl had been quiet, but well known nonetheless. Popular for her uncanny ability to forgive instantly and to help without question. "It is believed that the loaf that killed her was intended for you, Eleanor. Your Father's men were here to retrieve you before the poisoning, and they are insistent on taking you now. The convent is not safe for you anymore."

"Retrieve me? And where are they planning on taking me?" Eleanor asked, her voice just as stubborn as any day, though laced with sadness as she spoke. Nicholas had frozen once more beside her, and Sister Adelaide spared a nervous glance towards the huddle. A stable girl ran across the field at the sight of Sister Adelaide looking back at them to put Hubert back with the other horses, tears streaking down her face. Eleanor ripped the reigns from Sister Adelaide grasp, only letting her take Nicholas's steed. She looked to the frozen boy nervously. "Belinda is… _dead_? By a loaf meant for me? Who did this? _Why _would they do this?"

"The culprit was and English envoy among the men come to retrieve you, but he has been slain. The matter of why he attempted to take your life… Eleanor, this will not be easy for you to hear. It is believed that Mary is illegitimate. There is proof that Marie de Guise had an affair with the King's brother Peter," Sister Adelaide informed her, grasping onto her shoulders to stop her from collapsing in shock. Nicholas sharply replaced her hands, though neither glanced at each other. "You and Mary were the King's only children, Eleanor, and the fact that you are a bastard is irrelevant. _You_ are now the only heir to the Scottish throne. Your legitimatization is already underway, so that you can rule Scotland as its Queen."

"I will do no such thing. I am not a Queen, I am a bastard," Eleanor replied, leaning into Nicholas as she spoke, attempting to remain in a standing position. 'Bastard' was a title that she was proud of, as it meant no chance of wearing a crown and leading men into war. It meant not changing lives with a decision made by her. It meant little responsibility. Sister Adelaide fixed her with a determined look, though could not hide the worry in her eyes. "I am not a Queen, Sister Adelaide. I _can't _be. Mary has been groomed for this her entire life. They must be able to find contradicting evidence – they must!"

"There is no contradicting evidence, Eleanor, because it is true. Along with uncovered love letters Peter has confessed to this act of treason," Sister Adelaide told her calmly, seeing the fear from not just Belinda's untimely death in the young girl's green eyes, but a glimmer of what a trapped animal in a cage would resemble. "My dear, I know you are afraid. But you _must _do this. Word has spread already to the rest of the country that Mary is not the King's true daughter, and you know as well as I do that the countrymen would not embrace any kind of convincing statement that their King issued. James is not trusted, and there would be an uprising if Eleanor were to take the throne. You _must _do this."

"And what am I to do, exactly? Become a Queen? I could not _bear _sitting on a chair for hours on end, telling people how to run their lives – sentencing men to death for petty crimes," Eleanor replied, her bottom lip trembling. "Mary has trained for this her entire life. She is an expert, Sister Adelaide. I cannot pick up those skills now and even how that I can compare. I was born a bastard. I am to _stay _bastard."

"You need not compare, Eleanor, only rule," the woman told her softly, brushing a hand over the girl's fear stricken face with feather light fingertips. "Your Father's men have arrived, child. They are to take you to French court, where you are to wait until your legitimization. My dear, you are taking over Mary's position in every way. Her and Francis's engagement has been broken, and it is expected that you will marry within the year. I am so sorry, Eleanor. Truly, I am. I know that you have never wanted this, though sometimes it seems that life likes to play awful tricks on us."

"But I do not _know_ Francis. How am I to marry a man I do not know? How am I to rule France as its Queen when I have never laid eyes on the country? How am I to survive court, Sister Adelaide? Mary has told me that it is ruthless there, and that rumors have ruined girls' reputations," Eleanor told her, voice breaking as the words left her full lips. "How am I to gain the respect of those who hate bastard's, and detest them being on the throne? How am I to achieve all of the goals my Father has undoubtedly set me? How am I to meet expectations?"

"Eleanor, my dear, _sweet_ girl – King's and Queen's never meet all expectations. The decisions that you will make will be in service to Scotland, as this is a country you have set your eyes on, is it not? Is this country not your home? Have you not spoken to many countrymen during your life?" Sister Adelaide asked, a weak smile on her lined face. "Child, you may have never noticed this, but this moment is what we have been training you for. Mary has been trained as a Queen, yes, but _you_ have been trained to please our people and bring peace. That is why you speak foreign tongue fluently, and why you can diffuse altercations. My dear, you have been taught alongside Mary. You just did not know this."

"I'm afraid, Sister Adelaide. This is all coming so fast – I cannot wrap my head around this information," Eleanor admitted, looking past the woman that she had always despised's shoulder, to the rapidly approaching cloaked figures. "I do not want to go. Please, if you let me stay I will behave. Don't let them take me, I do not want to marry Francis – I want to live a life of freedom."

"Eleanor, since the day I laid eyes on your newborn body I knew that you were destined for something extraordinary. I had always hoped that your beauty and skills were extraordinary enough, so that life would not whisk you into a higher calling," Sister Adelaide replied, halting Eleanor's trembling lip with her thumb. "But you _are_ a Queen now – or at the very least, you are about to be. You will have few freedom's, my dear. Please grasp onto the ones that you are granted. I am so sorry, child. I am _so_ sorry."

"But what of Nicholas? What will happen to him?" Eleanor asked, her voice more frantic than it had been previously. The men quickened their approach, and Eleanor grasped at Nicholas, who was already reaching towards her. Sister Adelaide raised her hands in a calming gesture, smiling sweetly at the terrified girl and boy.

"He is to come with you. I have already told them that he is your personal guard, and that he has saved your life on a number of occasions. They have agreed to bring him to court with you, and there he will be for the rest of his days," Sister Adelaide replied, watching Nicholas's reaction closely. His eyes went wide before they melted into a grateful smile, and he wrapped Eleanor into a tight hug. Sister Adelaide rapidly swatted them apart. "There is to be no showing of affection, do you understand me? You belong to Francis now, Eleanor, and you may only embrace the blade smith in private."

"Of course. Thank you Sister Adelaide. I can never repay you for what you have done," Eleanor said, attempting a convincing tone in her shaky reply as Nicholas did his best to stand up and puff out his chest, like the approaching men were. The men quickened their approach, and Eleanor took this moment to embrace the teary-eyed woman in front of her, knowing that embracing a Sister of the convent would not arouse any suspicion. "I will write. Tell you of all the adventures I will go on in France, tell you how vulgar Francis is, and tell you of the updates on my legitimization. I will be all right. Those are two things that I can promise you."

"Blade smith, you shall take care of this girl, or I will reveal your true identity and you will be beheaded. Sweet Eleanor, be safe. Crusade's for justice are not something a Queen is required to take part in," Sister Adelaide reminded her, melting into the girl's arms with closed eyes. Eleanor had only been alive sixteen summers. She was to rule two countries in just under another. The strong, reassuring grin that was handed to Sister Adelaide convinced her that it would be alright, just as she'd been promised. The aspect of this that unnerved Sister Adelaide was the people that would attempt to harm Eleanor, because people would surely attempt harm the future Queen of France and Scotland. Those who opposed bastards on thrones would surely attempt to steal her life, simply for the existence of her life and reign.

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**Reviews are really appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


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